


The One Where They Steal an Arsonist

by nirejseki



Series: Leveraged Interference [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Leverage, Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Invasion! Crossover Event (CW DC TV Universe), Leverage Team Rescues Mick Rory, M/M, Mick Rory Defense Squad, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:02:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8911840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirejseki/pseuds/nirejseki
Summary: Mick Rory's being mistreated by his teammates, the Legends of Tomorrow, and Eliot Spencer - plus the rest of the Leverage crew - aren't going to put up with it a minute longer.
Now if only they can stop getting distracted by the pesky alien invasion that seems to be happening...





	

“I’ve got us a new case,” Eliot says, walking in.

Hardison looks up from his computer with interest. “Let me guess, it’s one of your exes?”

“Why would you even guess that?” Eliot asks, scowling.

“When it’s one of your cases?” Hardison says, shrugging theatrically. “Always an ex.”

“It’s not _always_ one of my exes,” Eliot says.

“You _do_ have an awful lot of exes,” Parker says from where she’s trying out a new harness on their Wall-of-Parker (beat the owner up the wall, get your drinks comped for a week!). Hardison had thought that offering rock-climbing lessons was a good way to cover up the amount of climbing equipment that they ordered for Parker, and it turned out (to no one’s surprise but Parker’s) that Parker liked teaching her skills to the more adventurous of the neighborhood children. 

“And I’m on good terms with most of ‘em,” Eliot points out. “Unlike _some people_.”

Hardison averts his eyes and Parker smirks in nostalgic memory. The case with Hardison’s ex had been really special, and they’re both distracted remembering it.

For about half a second.

Then they’re back to him. “Soooo, what’s her name?” Parker asks.

“Or his name,” Hardison adds.

“Why’d you break up? Was it because you had to go off into the sunset to stop a kamikaze submarine?”

“That happened _once_ , Parker ,” Eliot growls. “And this guy isn’t an ex.” He hesitates. “He’s a friend.”

“Did you _want_ him to be an ex?” Hardison asks, a little wide-eyed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fail to score, man.”

“Before he started dating us,” Parker interjects.

“Before that, yeah.”

“You guys want to hear about the job or not?”

“Of course we do,” Parker says soothingly, dropping down. “What’s this guy’s problem?”

“He’s got several,” Eliot says. “But specifically he’s having a mental health crisis while stuck with a crew full of people making fun of him behind his back. And not very well behind his back.” He thinks about it for a second. “Sometimes to his face.”

“That seems a bit amateur for us,” Hardison says skeptically. “They’re hurting his feelings?”

“They’re driving him to suicide,” Eliot says.

Hardison shuts his mouth.

“He recently lost his long-term partner and they’ve been treating him like he’s an animal,” Eliot continues. “And that’s a _quote_. He’s got a mental illness and they’re not letting him have enough downtime to see a shrink. Which is bad enough, but you add his grieving to it, it’s _really_ bad. And –” Eliot grimaces. “— one of them recently stole his partner’s clothing, dressed up as him, and then destroyed one of the few things my friend had left from him.”

“Wait, his partner, meaning the one who just died?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” Parker says. “They’re worse at people than I am. I’m in. What’s the company’s name?”

“Well, it’s not really a _company_ exactly,” Eliot hedges.

Hardison arches his eyebrows. “Eliot, if you don’t tell us, I can’t look them up.”

“You won’t be able to look them up anyway,” Eliot says. “He’s traveling through time right now.”

There’s a long pause.

“Wait,” Hardison says. “This is your Doctor Who LARPer friend you keep texting with?”

“He doesn’t – whatever that is. Also, stop reading my texts.”

“Getting to really know a man involves reading his private mail, Eliot,” Hardison replies. “You know that.”

“I know you do that _to our marks_. Damnit, Hardison; you don’t have to read my texts.”

“Do you actually mind?”

“…no.”

“That’s what I thought,” Hardison says happily. “So you believe the time travel thing?”

“Yeah,” Eliot says. “I really do.”

“Awesome,” Parker says. “Can we go through time and steal stuff?”

“First we need to get my friend out of there,” Eliot says. “It’s not good for him. He’s not healing, he’s not moving on. He’s just – stuck there. Being tormented. He’s attempted suicide by cop at least three times that I know of, and all I know of is what he’s told me by text.”

“Crap,” Hardison says, smile fading off his face. “Yeah, getting him out is definitely priority one.”

Eliot can’t quite hide his smile. He knew they’d have his back. 

“Oh,” he adds. “And we’re going to have to go up against a bunch of superheroes to do it.”

“When you say superheroes,” Hardison says suspiciously. “Do you mean superheroes, or do you mean _superheroes_?”

“I mean: you ever hear of the Starling City Vigilante?”

“Ooooh,” Parker says.

“Not ‘oooh’!” Hardison yelps. “Not ‘ooh!’ Bad! He shoots people! With arrows!”

“…and the Flash.”

“ _Both of them_?”

“…and maybe Firestorm, the ATOM, a guy who turns into steel, the Vixen from the 1940s JSA, and an ex-League of Assassins member .”

Silence for a long moment.

“I hate you so much sometimes,” Hardison says. “Also, this is going to be _epic_.”

“So,” Parker says, rubbing her hands together with glee. “Does that mean we’re going to steal an arsonist?”

“Yes,” Eliot says. “Yes, we are.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Okay," Hardison says, flicking the images onto the screen. "Here's our victim: Mick Rory. As you can see, I've opted for his mugshot from one of his many, _many_ arrests for theft, assault, and - most especially - arson, because Eliot has scary, scary friends -"

"Get on with it, Hardison," Eliot says, rolling his eyes.

Hardison smirks briefly, but it fades quickly as he adds files to the screen with several clicks. "Anyway. Mick Rory: his immediate family died in a fire that was ruled accidental, but his entire town thought it was him, so he got moved out into foster care asap, mostly because his extended family didn't want anything to do with him."

Eliot and Hardison both pretend not to see Parker's eyes narrow.

"He's been diagnosed with ADHD, severe anxiety, and pyromania, among other things," Hardison continues. "He's been in and out of treatment for about thirty years, both in and out of jail; he's got a shrink he likes that he's been going to for the last five years - ever since a really big fire gave him third degree burns on _forty percent of his body_ , Jesus, Eliot, where do you _find_ these people –” 

“The internet,” Eliot says peacefully.

“Wait, really?” Hardison asks, blinking. 

“Hardison,” Parker says.

“No, wait, Eliot’s _been on the internet_. He’s made internet friends. I have to follow up on this.”

“Later,” Parker orders .

Hardison heaves a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, where was I? Oh, right, his shrink. He likes her, she’s his go-to, but she hasn't seen him in nearly a year. He also, according to Eliot, makes a really killer barbeque, which is funny, because arson. His number one associate is his partner -" 

Hardison moves the smirking image onto the screen.

"Leonard Snart, aka Captain Cold. Because our Mick Rory, lest I forget to mention it, is a real life honest-to-god supervillain that the Central City media has dubbed Heatwave." Hardison pauses. "Who even comes up with these names, man?"

"You love them," Parker says with a grin.

"I love them," Hardison acknowledges with a nod. "I love them so much. They are the stuff of my comic book childhood dreams -"

"Childhood? I've _seen_ your bedroom," Eliot says.

"Fine, my _lifelong_ dreams. Can I go back to the briefing now?" They nod. "Anyway. Leonard Snart. Captain Cold. The only repeatedly successful non-metahuman enemy of the Flash. His records - which I assure you are extensive - were totally and completely wiped a year ago by a very skillfully designed computer virus. All of his paper records with the CCPD disappeared, too. And when I say disappeared, I mean _disappeared_. Serious hardcore work here. I had to resort to _calling policemen_ to find out about them."

"We appreciate your sacrifice, Hardison.”

"Damn _right_ you appreciate my sacrifice. Anyway, the two of them were futzing around Central City for a while, before they headed out with a team of time travelers that calls itself - wait for it - the Legends of Tomorrow."

Hardison pulls up the images of the team to the musical accompaniment of the League of Legends intro theme, which he stops with a snicker at Eliot's expression.

"According to Eliot, Snart recently died saving the universe," he continues. "Leaving Rory alone with this group, which - again, according to Eliot and his texting history, because I have absolutely no way of verifying anything that happens on a time-traveling spaceship, and yes, let me say it again for those in the back, a real life _time-traveling spaceship_ -"

"It’s just the two of us," Eliot grumbles.

"You think it's super cool, too," Hardison says peaceably.

Eliot doesn't reply.

"So this group - our targets - has apparently been harassing Mick to the point where he's depressed, unappreciated, probably low on his meds, and suicidal," Hardison continues. "And best of all, we have word that they're due to arrive in Central City in two days, which hilariously enough will only take them a few hours but gives us some much needed planning time."

He surveys his audience, satisfied that they're rapt with attention.

"Okay," he says. "Let's begin with our brand new team leader, the once-dead - and I don't mean just legally - Sara Lance -"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is my favorite heist ever,” Hardison says, rocking back a little on his heels. “ _Ever_. The only thing that would have been better would be if Eliot was the one doing the infiltrating.”

“I refuse to dress up as Mr. Punchy, Hardison.”

“I worked hard on that outfit!”

“You did _not_. You already had it.”

“…doesn’t mean I didn’t work hard on it at some point.”

“ _No_ , Hardison.”

“Fine,” Hardison says, then grins again. “Parker as a superhero is just as awesome. Anyone ever tell you that you look fine in skin tight leather, babe?”

Parker blinks at him, then down at her black leggings and jacket. “I wear this outfit all the time.”

“And you look gorgeous as always,” Hardison says, winning a grin from Parker and a fond eyeroll from Eliot.

“You said your contact’s meeting us here?” Eliot asks, checking the door.

“She’s probably late,” Hardison says. “I love her, but she’s not always the most punctual when it comes to real life – oh, there she is!”

A blonde woman in a sensible dress pushes open the door to the Central City bar they're currently occupying and looks around. Then she exclaims, “Oh my god, Hardison!” She throws her arms open and gives him a tight hug, which Hardison happily returns.

“Felicity, my _girl_ ,” he says. “How’ve you been? How’s the _superhero business_ going? Which, FYI, I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me about.”

“It’s technically a secret,” Felicity says apologetically. “But you! You fight bad guys now!”

“Hell yes I do,” Hardison says. “Have been for years.”

“I _know_ ,” Felicity says. “I’ve been keeping up with you – I can’t _believe_ you called Chaos for that job a few years back instead of me –”

“I thought you were trying to go legit!” Hardison protests. “You were totally still rocking the corporate IT thing back then.”

“Well, yeah, I _guess_ –”

“Also, I had to put up with _Chaos_ ,” Hardison says, emphasizing every syllable in the name. “That’s punishment enough.”

“True,” Felicity says, laughing. “So! How can I help? Please please please let it be help with hacking.”

“Oh, _hell_ no! I can do my own hacking _just fine_ , thank you.”

“One day we’re going one-on-one,” Felicity says. “Mano-a-mano. Computer-a-computer.”

“May the person with the best code win,” Hardison says. 

“Maybe we can save the nerd-off for another time?” Eliot interjects.

“Only conditionally,” Hardison says. “Felicity, this is Eliot and Parker –”

“I’ve heard _so much_ about you,” Felicity enthuses, bouncing up a little on the balls of her feet. “Both of you. This is _awesome_.”

“Nice to meet you,” Parker says.

“I’m glad that not all Hardison’s creepy pretending-to-be-elves friends are fake,” Eliot adds.

“Actually, we first met on a black hat site, and then we moved over to playing WOW at about the same time –”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Hardison says. “We need your help, Felicity.”

“You got it,” Felicity says. “With what?”

“We need to infiltrate your hero squad.”

“Whoa,” Felicity says. “Wait, who are you targeting this time? And why? Because Oliver’s actually _really_ sorry about a lot of the stuff he used to do –”

They tell her.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh, and this is Parker and Eliot,” Felicity says. 

“Hey, cool,” Barry says, sticking out his hand to Parker, who shakes it. “Barry Allen; I’m the Flash. I don’t think we’ve met – you’re superheroes too?”

“I’m a superhero,” Parker corrects. “Eliot here is my back-up tech support. Just like Oliver has Felicity and you have Cisco Ramon. Which Felicity told me about. Which is why I know it. Because Felicity.”

Eliot smiles his best I’m-not-a-threat smile. 

Sure enough, everyone’s eyes slide right off of him.

“I didn’t know we knew another superhero,” Oliver says, glancing briefly at Felicity. “Or that they knew about _us_ …”

“Barry said to bring in everyone,” Felicity points out, entirely ignoring the implied question in the second half of his sentence. 

“Where do you work?” Barry asks Parker. “I don’t know if I’ve heard about you.”

“I’m from Portland,” Parker says.

“I’m _sure_ I’ve never heard about you,” Oliver says, frowning a bit. “Or about a superhero based in Portland at all.”

“To be fair,” Felicity says reasonably, “have you ever talked to anyone from Portland?”

Everyone pauses for a moment, then shrugs, accepting it. 

“Actually, I think I did hear about someone in Portland by the name of Parker,” Diggle says after a moment. “I don’t remember what exactly, but there was definitely something.”

Oliver’s shoulders relax somewhat at the confirmation. 

“Sooooo, what do you do?” Barry asks, smiling.

“I climb stuff,” Parker says.

Barry blinks. “You – climb stuff?”

“He shoots arrows,” Parker points out, gesturing at Oliver.

Oliver opens his mouth.

“ _Portland_ ,” Felicity hisses.

Oliver closes his mouth. 

“Well, we’re still really glad to have you,” Barry says, bouncing back. “We can use all the help we can get in fighting against the aliens.”

“Sure,” Parker says.

_Aliens?! No one mentioned there were aliens! I want to see aliens!_ Hardison wails over the comms.

Eliot’s smile gets slightly more fixed.

“Anyway, Cisco and I are just going to go get someone else – we’ll be right back,” Barry says. 

Parker and Eliot both nod and head towards the knot of people milling around.

Eliot’s lips tighten slightly when he notices Mick standing somewhat back, eyes not really fixed on anything and certainly not congregating with any of the others. He glances at Parker, who nods slightly and moves purposefully towards Mick.

A young woman turns and smiles at Eliot. “Hi,” she says. “I’m Caitlin. I help Team Flash. You said you support – uh, Parker, was it?”

“Yeah,” Eliot says, still keeping half his attention on Parker. “That’s my job.”

“That’s me, too,” Caitlin says. “I help with medical stuff, while Cisco’s a bit more techy.”

Eliot flashes his best southern smile at her. “Well, ma’am, I mostly do tech stuff, too. I’m sure you’re a very valuable member of your team.”

Caitlin flushes, but smiles back. She seems nice enough.

_For shame, Eliot_ , Hardison says in his ear, voice warm. _Right in front of Parker and me, too._

Eliot manages to keep from rolling his eyes.

Just out of the corner of his eye, he sees Parker walk up to Mick and say in her best chirpy-happy voice, “Hi! I’m Parker. How are you?”

Mick blinks at her, taking a few long – socially awkwardly long – moments to get back to himself. 

Just as possible recognition is dawning in his eyes and a slight smile threatening, a blonde woman dressed in white cuts in, “Don’t mind Mick; he barely makes conversation at the best of times.” Then she smiles flirtatiously. “My name’s Sara. You know, I didn’t know there were other superhero groups out there; is Parker a nickname or…?”

“It’s my real name,” Parker says, watching Mick shut back down, visibly assuming his recognition was incorrect.

“Cute name,” Sara says. 

“Whatever,” Mick says, attention already lost.

“I’m from Portland,” Parker says. “Either of you ever been to Portland?”

They both shake their heads, though Mick is frowning at her thoughtfully again.

“There’s a really great bar there,” Parker says, still smiling. “Microbrewery, rock climbing wall, _awesome_ food.”

“Well,” Sara says, smile broadening, “I guess I’ll have to try it sometime. Say, why don’t I introduce you to a couple of the others?” She leads Parker away, even though Parker glances back once or twice. She can’t refuse without breaking cover or giving away their interest.

Luckily, it’s not necessary: Mick starts scanning the room, clearly looking for someone else who doesn’t fit, and Eliot makes a polite excuse to Caitlin, who he’s been making small talk with, and moves carefully to the side.

Mick’s eyes fix on the movement, then on Eliot, who catches his eye and winks. Mick frowns again and makes his way over.

“Hi,” Eliot says before Mick says anything stupid. “My name’s Eliot; I work with Parker. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

“Uh,” Mick says, clearly wrong-footed. “And you, I guess.” He’s even surprised enough to take Eliot’s hand to shake.

Eliot squeezes his hand and steps in a little. “Yeah, it’s me. We’re getting you out of here,” he says in a low voice, lips barely moving.

“Can’t,” Mick replies, equally quietly. “Team needs me. Snart would – I can’t just leave them.” He doesn’t look entirely convinced about what he’s saying. 

“We’ll help with this, and then maybe you come take a short break with us, huh?” Eliot says firmly. “We’ve still got that barbeque-off, remember?”

Mick smiles, just a little, and seems about to say something, at which point an older man comes right up to them. “Ah, you must be Eliot,” he says, looking pleased and grabbing Eliot’s hand to shake – Eliot just manages to restrain the impulse to throw him and instead shakes back, baring his teeth in a mostly friendly smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet another superhero team. Don’t let Mr. Rory scare you off. My name is Professor Martin Stein; I’m one half of Firestorm – Dr. Snow tells me that you work in technology? My own specialization is in nuclear physics and related mechanical engineer, although I have several degrees –”

_Is it just me, or does it seem like they don’t want anyone outside the team to talk to Mick?_ Hardison demands over the comms. _Yeesh._

“– tell me, Mr., ah…?”

“Spencer,” Eliot says flatly. His tone doesn’t seem to bother Stein at all.

“Ah, yes! Mr. Spencer. Tell me, what sort of technology work do you do?”

Eliot has an entire patter that Hardison trained into him for times like this – just enough bleeding edge technobabble to make sure no one asks too deeply, even for a nosy guy like this old professor. 

He doesn’t use it. 

Instead, he smiles with even more teeth than usual and says, “Oh, you know. Techy stuff.”

Stein blinks at him.

“Y’know, I turn things on and off,” Eliot adds, throwing on the deepest drawl he’s got. The one that screams ‘hick from Oklahoma’ even to other Oklahoma residents. “I even reconnect the plugs sometimes.”

Mick bursts out laughing. 

_You’re a dick for not using the speech I wrote you_ , Hardison says, sounding incredibly fond. _But I forgive you everything if you tell me that his face is just like I’m imagining it._

“I get a lot of job satisfaction from what I do,” Eliot says, smiling sincerely and answering Hardison at the same time. “I’m sure it’s the same for you, Mr., uh, Stein, was it?”

“Professor, actually,” Stein says, sounding a bit stiff.

“We should talk shop,” Eliot says. “I’m sure we’ve got a _lot_ in common.”

“Yes – I’m sure – unfortunately, it appears that my, ah, partner is calling me. Perhaps we’ll have more time to discuss later,” Stein says, and quickly ducks away.

There was definitely no one calling him, and the young black kid that he goes up to seems rather surprised to see him.

“That was beautiful,” Mick says. “Unnecessary, but beautiful.”

“He doesn’t think too much of people who aren’t as smart as he is, does he,” Eliot says, not bothering to make it a question. He knows how much Mick always hated people thinking he was stupid, even when he played it up to get people to underestimate him. Mick has told Eliot half a dozen stories over the years that involved his partner spitefully getting revenge on people who implied Mick wasn’t too bright to his face.

Eliot wonders darkly what Snart would do if he read Mick and Eliot’s text message history.

“That’s just the way the professor is,” Mick says dismissively. “He doesn’t think _anyone_ ’s as smart as he is.”

“Right,” Eliot says, noting that the young black kid that Stein went to talk to is now heading over his way, clearly on an intercept course. “Why is it that everyone keeps interrupting me when I try to talk to you?”

“They probably don’t want me to embarrass the team or something,” Mick says. An inattentive man might not notice how his eyes flicker to the floor in shame when he says that.

Eliot has never been described as inattentive.

“You sure you won’t come with us?” Eliot says, voice low. “We’d help them in your place.”

“They’d just come after me,” Mick says with a sigh. “Probably figure I got lost or something.”

Eliot nods tightly, old habit helping him keep his rage down and under control even as Parker’s hands tighten into fists across the room, even as Hardison curses a blue streak in his ear. “Okay,” he says. “We’ll be around, if you change your mind.”

Then he turns to the black kid, who’s just coming up to them, and says, “Quarterback, right?”

The kid blinks. “Hey, yeah! How’d you know?”

“Quarterbacks have a very distinctive way of moving,” Eliot says, leading the kid away from Mick.

_So plan A: grab Mick and go is a bust_ , Hardison says. 

“We’ll think of something,” Parker says, and smiles at Sara.

That’s when Barry and Cisco reappear out of some sort of portal with a smiling young woman in tow. 

“Hey guys!” Barry says cheerfully. “Thanks for coming.”

“Though you said you were bringing an alien,” Oliver observes.

“We did. Everybody, this is my friend, Kara Danvers, or, as she's known on her Earth, Supergirl.”

“What makes her so super?” Jax asks.

The young woman hovers up and then shoots _laser beams_ out of her eyes, carving the symbol on her uniform into the concrete.

“Heat vision?” Eliot murmurs disbelievingly.

_Heat vision?! Are you kidding me?!_ Hardison yells. _Goddamnit, people, I have limits to what I can include in the briefing! No one told me we’d be dealing with the freaking_ multiverse _!_

“Cool,” Parker says, her eyes shining, and she goes right up to Supergirl as she lands. 

“Hi,” she says, smile broadening. “My name’s Parker.”

Eliot watches in the sort of mild horror-slash-gleeful-euphoria that comes when your devious mastermind of a girlfriend meets an indestructible alien that shoots lasers out of her eyes _and they like each other_.

Hardison gets worried when Oliver Queen – via Barry Allen – announces that they’re going to train by fighting against Supergirl.

Eliot isn’t worried at all.

All in all, the whole lot of them only manage to get Supergirl down three times over the course of three hours, and one of those times involves Parker using Mick as a jumping-off point – he hoists her up perfectly, as if they’ve practiced it – and snagging Kara in a blanket while shouting “it’s vintage!” so that Kara feels too bad to rip it open with her powers.

“That’s…totally not going to be useful against the Dominators,” Oliver says blankly.

“You didn’t say I had to pretend I was fighting the Dominators,” Parker points out. “You said I had to take down _Kara_.”

“She has a point,” Kara says, still muffled by the blanket. “I really wasn’t expecting that. Good job. Is this really vintage?”

_That’s our girl_ , Hardison says in Eliot’s ear, and Eliot smiles.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Oh my god. Oh my_ god.

“Hardison, calm down,” Eliot mutters under his breath.

_The aliens kidnapped the_ president. _Do you know how hard that is?! There’s secret service, there’s military, there’s all sorts of secret agents – satellites – and they just grabbed him like they were picking up a sandwich at a grab-and-go deli counter!_

“Depending on the city, deli counter might’ve been harder,” Eliot says.

_Not helping! Seriously, guys, this is – this is the president. The President of the United States of America._ That _president. Getting kidnapped. And we’ve just decided to go rescue him?!_

“Technically,” Parker says under her breath, smile fixed on her face, “only some of us have decided to go rescue him.”

“We _are_ the superheroes,” Eliot points out.

_We are not superheroes! We’re thieves! Let me remind you! We are not indestructible aliens, or super-speedsters, or – or –_

“Robin Hood?” Eliot suggests.

“We kinda are Robin Hood,” Parker agrees. “Minus the arrows. Should I take up archery?”

_Not in my bar you’re not!_

“Relax,” Eliot says soothingly. “These are literally superheroes. I’m sure they do this every day.”

_And how would you know that?_

“Well, the world hasn’t ended yet,” Parker points out.

_… that logic makes absolutely no sense._

“Calmed you down, though.”

_Hey!_

Eliot gets left behind when most of the team – excluding Barry and Oliver, because everyone’s angry at Barry for some reason involving the timeline that Eliot thinks is stupid since the poor kid obviously had no idea what would happen when he did what he did – heads out to rescue the president, and he uses the opportunity to go meet up with Hardison, both to slap him upside the head so he calms down and so that they can huddle up with Parker.

“So, that worked,” Hardison says, rubbing his eyes and glaring at Eliot for Eliot’s perfectly reasonable offer to slap him again if he thought it would help. “I think. At least we’ve successfully infiltrated?”

“I think Mick's been understating how badly they’re treating him,” Eliot says, scowling at the reminder. 

“And the way they’re ignoring him!” Hardison says, shaking his head. “I mean, wow. They’re not – you don’t treat team members that way. And it’s such a waste, too. That guy is a master-class criminal. Him and his partner – they were legends even _before_ they started the whole supervillain thing –”

_Yeah, remember the Triple Emerald job?_ Parker asks through her comms.

“Hell yes I remember that,” Hardison says.

“Work of art,” Eliot puts in.

_I heard through the grapevine that that was them._

“ _Nice_. And this crew, they’re treating one of the two people involved in that masterpiece as – I don’t know, like he’s something to be embarrassed about.”

_It just makes me very mad_ , Parker mutters. _They're heroes. We need to take him back to the bar and, I don’t know, make him eat his weight in Eliot’s cooking and get like a massage or something at the place down the street and drink all of Hardison’s beer – it makes me so_ mad –

"Mad?!" Hardison exclaims. "Furious, enraged, disbelieving -"

"Yeah, we get it, we're all mad," Eliot says.

“Also, I’m working on a cider right now,” Hardison says. “Not beer. But seriously, Eliot, you weren't kidding about these assholes.”

"That's why we're going to have a plan," Eliot says firmly. "I can't punch a guy who turns into steel." He pauses. "Well. I mean. I _could_. Could make it hurt, too, but -"

_No, I have a plan_ , Parker says. _I'll tell you when I get a moment free_.

_What's the plan?_ a cheerful voice asks, audible through the comms.

Parker goes abruptly quiet.

_Oh, I'm sorry_ , the voice - oh, god, it's _Supergirl_ \- says. _Was I not - uh, I have super-hearing. I couldn't help but overhear. Was I not supposed to know about the plan? It sounded like you were planning to help Mick somehow?_

Eliot and Hardison exchange alarmed looks. Supergirl hadn't been in Hardison's briefing - for obvious reasons, her being from another universe - and they hadn't planned for what would happen if she blew their cover.

_Uh, yeah_ , Parker says, recovering. _We're, uh, friends of his. We're trying to…plan a surprise. For Mick. Involving taking him back with us to Portland for a vacation._

_Okay, cool_ , Kara says. _How can I help?_

"...what, that's it?" Hardison yelps. 

_…thanks for offering_ , Parker says, sounding wary.

_No, seriously! I mean, Parker, you've been, like, really nice, and from what I've overheard you just want to get him, like, food and beer and a backrub, which, I mean, I'd be totally into._ She sighs. _No one ever kidnaps me for good stuff. It's all evil alien dissection this, evil speech that, planetary destruction of some variety..._

_Oh, yeah well, you know that he just lost his_ \- Parker hesitates for less than a second, switching gears effortlessly back into harmless-superhero-Parker-from-Portland. – _husband? It was just a few months ago. So we wanted to do something nice for him! But he's being stubborn about not wanting to take some time off work, you know?_

_Oh, man, my sister is_ just _like that_ , Kara says. _He wants to go with you, though? He’s just saying he’s too busy with work?_

_Yeah, he's just stubborn. He and Eliot have totally been friends for years._

_Cool. I'll totally help you when we're done with the aliens_ , Kara promises. _He seemed really nice, and kinda sad. That explains everything._

_You’re the_ best, Parker says with real enthusiasm.

Hardison mutes their side of the comms. "They're friends," he says. "This is like Alice, just with superhero Parker."

Eliot just shrugs helplessly. What do you even say?

_Ooh, wait, there he is!_ Supergirl says, clearly talking to the whole group now. _The President's in there._

_How do you know that?_ Mick’s voice says.

_I have x-ray vision._

_Oh_ , Mick says, sounding amused. _You can see everyone's bits with those little peepers, huh?_

Kara starts spluttering.

Hardison laughs. “Man, you remember those Cracker Jack boxes with the x-ray vision glasses you could order if you collected enough of them? And when they showed up, they were _so_ disappointing?”

“Yeah,” Eliot says. “I’m surprised _you_ do.”

“I basically funded my school with all the cereal box tops I collected,” Hardison says with dignity. Eliot looks at him. “Plus a bit of messing on the DOE’s website, whatever. And Nana liked Cracker Jacks.”

_Well, what are you going to call when you need my help?_ Kara's asking.

_Hm. Skirt_ , Mick says.

“Oh, a nickname,” Eliot says. “He must like her.”

“Wait,” Hardison says, sitting up straight. “Does that mean _you_ have a nickname?”

“No comment,” Eliot replies.

_Ignore him_ , Sara says dryly, which – rude much?

_You know what, I'm going to go up through the roof_ , Parker interrupts. _Just in case. You know? Besides, climbing is totally my thing._

“Where is the lie,” Hardison mutters. Eliot smirks.

There's some mumbling and then a minute or so later Parker comes on the line.

_Okay, I’m alone now_ , she says. _New plan. Listen to me -_

They listen.

And then they start grinning.

“You think they’ll fall for it?” Eliot says.

_They’re heroes_ , Parker points out. _They won’t be able to resist._

"We'll have to make sure they don't find out about me in advance," Hardison says. "But I _like_ it."

_Good_ , Parker says. _Now we - uh._

"Uh?" Eliot says, frowning. “What ‘uh’, Parker?” Parker didn’t ‘uh’ on missions.

_The aliens just vaporized the president._

"The aliens just _what_ now?" Eliot exclaims.

_It's a trap! There's some sort of reddish light -_

"Get out of range!"

_Don't worry; they haven't even noticed me, I was too busy talking to you guys_ , Parker says. _Um. You guys are still by the hall, right? With the Flash and Arrow?_

"Yeah, why?" 

_I think they might have mind controlled all the heroes. Including Supergirl._

"Crap," Eliot says.

"That's not good," Hardison says. "Did you _see_ how she kicked y'all's asses earlier?"

"Not that," Eliot says. "Mick's whole brainwashing thing. This can't be good for him."

"Brainwashed superheroes, probably coming to kill us all," Hardison says. "With ninja stars and flame guns and maybe heat vison! Maybe slightly more of a priority?!"

"I'll tell Barry and Oliver," Eliot says, ignoring Hardison with the ease of long-standing practice. "You saw what caused it?"

_Yeah, a big red cylinder-y thing._

"Great. I'll tell Barry and try to help without blowing my cover. Maybe if we destroy that, it'll stop whatever's controlling them."

_I'll shadow them back and try to make sure they don't hit any innocent targets_ , Parker says.

"And what do I do?" Hardison demands.

"Try not to get heat-visioned to death," Eliot advises.

“I hate you _so much_ sometimes.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So,” Felicity says after it’s all over, smiling up at Mick and holding her umbrella over his head. “What was it like being mind-controlled and stuff?”

Eliot sighs.

It’s not her fault, she doesn’t know, he reminds himself. 

“I didn’t realize he had a mind to be controlled,” Jax jokes.

…he has no excuse. What the hell?

Sara laughs.

Eliot resists punching her in the face. Parker shoots him at thumbs up at the effort, then turns back to her conversation with Supergirl. They seem to be discussing flying – or, in Parker’s case, controlled falling. Supergirl seems very into it. Parker may or may not be negotiating for a ride.

“Okay,” Barry says, mostly to Oliver. “Now what?”

“We call Lyla,” Oliver says firmly. “Tell her that the Dominators aren’t here peacefully.”

A burst of white light suddenly surrounds Sara, and she disappears.

“Sara!” Oliver shouts.

Supergirl grabs Parker and flies inside.

Eliot turns to run after them, and then everything is white –

\-- 

Eliot is in position.

“I’m with the florist,” he says into the comms, shrugging off the jacket behind a convenient potted plant. “I’ve planted the bugs and I’m heading back now. Queen Consolidated isn’t going to know what hit it.”

He pauses. He’s not really one to question Parker’s grand plans, but – “Seems a bit mean to hit them on the day of their son’s wedding, though. No one’s indicated that he’s involved, beyond actively trying to clean up the business.”

“Tech tech megabytes synergies compilation tech OS,” Hardison replies.

Eliot pauses.

That seems – even more incoherent than usual for Hardison.

He goes back to Lucille and climbs into the back of the van.

Parker is sitting on the ceiling of the van without a harness. “I’m glad you’re back,” she says, crawling onto the wall in what seems to be an unnecessarily slinky fashion. “We should get dinner before the next part of the plan. I’m thinking a nice _coq au vin_ , maybe a side of _oeufs en meurette_ tossed with some duck confit and some andouille sausage, paired with a lovely medium-bodied Cru Beaujolais Brouilly .”

“Harddrive calibrate defrag tech RAM tech tech,” Hardison agrees, nodding and smiling in that private little way he had sometimes. 

“Right,” Eliot says, sighing. “So this is a dream world.”

He catches up with Sara at the rehearsal dinner (ignoring the way Parker expertly climbs up the wall then backflips over the buffet table). 

“Sara,” he says. “We need to –”

“Sorry, I’m totally not in charge of events; that’s Moira,” she says, and walks right by him.

Eliot sighs. 

He tries Thea Queen next.

He side-steps the glass she tries to automatically throw at his face.

Interesting reaction.

“You know what’s going on,” he says flatly.

“I don’t care,” she replies, and turns her back on him.

Eliot turns towards Ray, but he’s making time with Felicity. Eliot decides to go to find Oliver. 

Oliver is missing in action. From his own dream rehearsal dinner. 

Eliot decides to go see what the dream world has in the kitchen.

Might as well get _some_ benefit from being in a dream world.

(Good to know that he’d still be working with Parker and Hardison in his ideal world. He’s never telling them about the tech babble and sexy Spiderman wall-climbing thing, though.)

The next day, he tracks down Oliver again. Oliver’s been a busy bee: he’s apparently found Diggle.

“You guys figured out that it’s a dream world yet?” Eliot asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Oliver says. “You too?”

“Yeah,” Eliot says, trying not to roll his eyes. 

“Am I the last one to know about this?” Diggle demands.

“Ray and Sara haven’t gotten the memo yet,” Eliot offers.

“How do you know they’re real?”

“I remember the real world,” Eliot says.

“We have to be careful,” Oliver says. “These head games aren’t over. They’re going to push back against whatever we do.”

“Push back?” Diggle asks. “Like how?”

“Like that,” Oliver says, gesturing at a giant man in a split-faced mask wielding a katana.

Eliot sighs.

The fight with the man is fairly brief, Oliver, Diggle and Eliot using their skills to bat him around until Sara swoops in out of nowhere and stabs him.

“How did I just do that?” she asks.

“You know, you’re not half bad for a tech guy,” Diggle tells Eliot.

Eliot grits his teeth. “Let’s figure out a way to get out of here. Sara, get Ray. Oliver, get Thea.”

“You don’t give the orders here,” Oliver says tersely.

“All right,” Eliot says patiently. “What do you suggest we do, genius?”

Oliver pauses. “Sara, you get Ray. I’ll get Thea.”

Eliot ends up waiting outside with Diggle.

“So –” Diggle starts.

“No,” Eliot says.

“Just wanted to know what your –”

“ _No_.”

“Fine.”

A moment of quiet.

Then – “Say, did you say your name was Eliot _Spencer_? Because when I was a bodyguard, I heard about this one guy…”

“People tell me that all the time,” Eliot lies. “Just a common name.”

“Oh,” Diggle says.

Sara comes out with Ray. “So, we’ve figured it out,” she says. “We’re going to the Smoak Technologies tower. We think that’ll be the exit.”

“They won’t make it easy,” Oliver says, joining them. “Well, whatever we're doing, we have to do it fast because whatever the Dominators have done to us, they would have built in safeguards. They'll probably be manifestations from our memories designed to keep us here.”

An arrow flies through the air and Eliot catches it just as it’s about to hit Oliver.

Oliver blinks.

“Lot of flying debris when you work with technology,” Eliot says. It’s not necessarily untrue, just irrelevant. 

Then they all turn around.

Eliot recognizes a few of them: the same split-faced masked guy as before, Slade Wilson; Damian Darkh, Malcolm Merlyn, some guys in masks and –

Oh.

Ohhhhh.

This is going to be _so satisfying_.

Eliot grins.

“Hi, Sterling,” he says pleasantly, and charges. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Honestly, they should have used Quinn or Mikel Dayan or someone that would be able to put up a proper fight against him. But that felt _so much better_.

After the manifestations are defeated, it’s a simple matter of getting to the portal and then out of the stasis chambers.

“Uh, guys?” Ray says. “There’s something you really need to see.”

There’s a window.

A window showing stars, and the Earth, because they’re in outer space.

The worst part of it is, Eliot can’t even blame Hardison for getting them into this mess. This one’s all on him.

“Damnit, Mick,” he says, under his breath, just because he can. 

“How do we find our way off an alien spaceship?” Thea asks. 

“This way,” Ray says, heading down the hallway. “Even though it's an alien technology, certain principles of design are universal.”

They turn a corner and walk into a whole set of aliens.

“Or not,” Ray says helpfully.

Eliot sighs and slides into action, calling on all of his skills used against a stronger opponent: dropping down low to kick one’s legs out, chop to the neck – oh, good, they have similar pressure points to humans – flip to the next one, throw one into the other –

Oliver uses the gun on the wall to blast the remaining aliens. “Ray’s right; certain design principles are universal,” he says, pleased, then turn to Eliot and stops, staring at the five aliens that Eliot’s dropped in the meantime.

“You said you were tech support, huh?” Sara says, arching her eyebrows.

Eliot shrugs. “I like computers,” he lies. “I also like hitting things.” That one isn’t a lie.

“Cool,” Thea says, just accepting it. He can appreciate that in a person.

“This way!” Ray calls.

Eliot drops back to his preferred position, covering their backs, and Oliver ends up leading them to a spaceship bay.

“You think you can fly one of these things?” Diggle says, panting. He’s still injured from the fight in stasis. 

“I'm hoping that between you, me, Ray, Eliot and Sara, someone can fly one of these things,” Oliver replies.

Turns out it’s Thea that manages to get them out, pushing some random buttons that send them out of the flight hanger on autopilot. Beyond that, though, they’re kind of lost.

Eliot _does_ manage to figure out how to turn on the weapons system. It looks _exactly_ like one of the first person shooter interfaces Hardison set up in the basement of the bar for his monthly Video Game Bonanza Nights. 

Actually, kicking Hardison’s ass in Space Invaders on Video Game Bonanza Night turns out to be really good training for blasting away the massive group of alien ships following them. 

Eliot is _never_ telling Hardison.

The Waverider executes a perfect drift when it comes to pick them up, the tractor beam pulling them into the ship with a jerk followed by a nauseating rumble as the ship does – something – and suddenly Eliot can’t hear the sound of firing guns anymore. Probably jumped into the time stream, which would make sense. 

Following an instinct, Eliot ignores the guy waiting for them at the cargo bay – Nate Heywood, he recognizes him from Hardison’s briefing – and heads straight to the bridge. 

Mick looks at him from the captain’s seat.

“Nice driving,” Eliot says. 

Mick smirks.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m so incredibly jealous of y’all right now,” Hardison says grumpily. “Parker gets to be a superhero, Eliot gets to fight aliens – and _Sterling_ – and me? I get to sit in Lucille and wait for you.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re key to the next part of the plan,” Parker offers, putting her head on his shoulder.

“That _does_ make me feel better,” Hardison says. “So what’s up? We putting it into motion? I don’t have the intel we need for it yet.”

“You’re going to get it,” Eliot says. He knows exactly what the plan is, since he was there with Parker when he saw her get this part of the idea.

Parker smirks, which is all the confirmation Hardison needs to start getting excited. “You know how I went with Cisco and Felicity and Kara to Starling while Eliot was in space?”

“Yeah?”

“I got you a present,” Parker says, and grins. “It’s a little key that translates alien-text to English.”

“Oh, _yes_!” Hardison presses a kiss to her cheek. “So what’s the plan?”

“Oliver’s decided that we need to kidnap a Dominator from the 1950s to interrogate,” Eliot says, even though he knows Hardison already knows it from the comms. That doesn’t mean Eliot can believe that this is a real plan that people are signing up for. 

Hardison looks at Parker, then at Eliot. “Wait,” he says slowly. “Are you saying that _I_ get to go on the time travel ship?”

“Both Eliot and I are known quantities and we’ve been assigned to stay here,” Parker says. 

“Besides, neither of us are good enough to get the intel we need from the Waverider,” Eliot says.

“I love you both _so much_ ,” Hardison says and hugs them both.

“Man, stop that!” Eliot says, batting him away. “No mushy stuff!”

“We’re _dating_ ,” Hardison protests.

“Doesn’t matter!”

“I don’t care, you can’t bring me down, I am going time travelling,” Hardison says. “I officially forgive y’all for _everything_. Take me to your spaceship!”

“Time ship,” Eliot says.

“Take me to your _time ship_! TARDIS, here I come!”

Getting Hardison on board without anyone noticing turns out to be quite easy. After a quick word from Eliot – and a suspicious look, though not as suspicious as Eliot would like, because Mick is depressed and doesn’t actually seem to care about anything that’s happening around him – Mick walks inside with the main crew, then doubles back and opens the door for Hardison. 

“Hi, there,” Hardison says. “I’m Hardison, and you’re a very large, very scary supervillain. Ex-supervillain. I hope.”

Mick grunts. 

“Is that a good grunt or a bad grunt?”

“Eliot says you make shitty pumpkin beer,” Mick says. “Just don’t mess up the timeline, okay?”

“Swear to god and hope to die,” Hardison says automatically.

Then, “Wait, Eliot doesn’t like my beer?!”

“He doesn’t like _pumpkin_ beer,” Mick corrects.

“But I didn’t have time to make any this year because I was busy with the – oooooooh. _Sneaky_ , Eliot. Very sneaky.”

“Whatever,” Mick says. “Eliot says you need to stay out of the way. Bedrooms are over that way.”

Hardison nods.

Mick has the _best bedroom ever_. This is the way a time traveler should live: Mohamed Ali’s spare boxing gloves, Jimi Hendrix’s guitar on the wall, the fucking Stanley Cup sitting in the corner with a shirt tossed over it –

That last one seems almost deliberately covered up, actually.

It doesn’t matter. Hardison cracks his knuckles and sits down at the computer station. When he turns it on, a small floating holographic head pops up by his elbow. “Hello,” she says pleasantly. “My name is Gideon. I’m the ship’s computer. How may I assist you?”

“Hello, Gideon,” he says with a grin. “How’s about you and me chat?”

Hardison might not be the go-to guy for fighting or even superheroing, but computers, even far-future computers, are his _specialty_. Gideon is a freaking _awesome_ AI, too; she recognizes him – apparently her ‘maker’ and him used to get into, like, videogame contests? Which is awesome. Hardison looks forward to meeting whoever the hell that is, assume he hasn’t met them already – and once he explains what he’s looking for, she’s more than happy to help.

A few hours in, an alarm goes off.

“What’s happening?” he asks, looking up.

“I’m afraid it looks like Mr. Rory, Ms. Jiwe, and Mr. Heywood have been captured by government agents, along with the Dominator they have subdued,” Gideon says. “Mr. Ramon and Ms. Smoak are planning a rescue in the armory.”

“Oh, hell no,” Hardison says, and gets up to go intercept them.

“Who the hell are you?!” Cisco exclaims, pointing a ridiculously large gun at Hardison, who immediately puts his hands up in the universal ‘don’t shoot me’ sign.

“It’s okay!” Felicity interjects. “This is Hardison. He’s with Parker and Eliot.”

“Why didn’t you introduce yourself earlier?” Cisco says suspiciously. 

“It’s a long story,” Hardison says. “Felicity, what’s the plan?”

“Um,” Felicity says. 

“We go in and we get our friends out,” Cisco says.

“That, my friends, is a _terrible_ plan,” Hardison says. “That’s why I’m here to help.” He pauses, then grins. “Actually, that gives me a great idea.”

“Why would we follow your lead?” Cisco says challengingly.

“Uh, Cisco,” Felicity says. “You might not be in the computer biz enough to know about Hardison’s former exploits, but have you ever heard of the ‘Leverage’ team?”

“Yeah, it’s – holy crap, that’s _you guys_? You guys are _so awesome_!” Cisco says, beaming. “I’ve heard so much about you. Did you guys actually take over a small European country as part of one of your things?”

“You bet your ass we did,” Hardison says, grinning. “You should have seen it; it was beautiful.”

“And you came to help us fight aliens?” Cisco marvels.

“Uh,” Hardison says. “Not _quite_. But since I’m here, let me help get them all out of here.”

“Okay,” Cisco says agreeably. “So what’s the plan?”

“Oh, man, you are going to love this _so much_ ,” Hardison says.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hardison walks into the facility wearing a black suit which was literally _3D printed_ by Gideon, which is freaking awesome, and a pair of sunglasses, followed closely by Cisco and Felicity, one on each side. They're both holding large cardboard boxes very officiously – everything looks officious with cardboard boxes of a certain size – and wearing sunglasses just like him.

One of the big guys standing at the door frowns at them. “Who’re you?” he grunts.

“I’m Agent Jay,” Hardison says with a smile. “These are my colleagues, Agents Kay and Elle; they’ll be assisting me with the interrogation.”

“Interrogation?” the guy says with a scowl. “How do you know –” 

“Son, you don’t even have the _clearance_ to know what I know,” Hardison snaps. “We’re from the Miami department.”

“Miami?” the guy blinks. “But we don’t have –”

“Of course Miami,” Hardison says. “You don’t think you know about all of our branches, do you? Listen here, we were summoned here, top priority, by people telling us this is part of Project Jiggy Wit It, and by god, son, you had _better_ forget you ever heard that name, or else I will have your badge, I will have your name, I will have your _family_ –”

“Sorry, sir!” the guy says desperately. “Right this way, sir. The hostiles are just down the hallway. I’ll tell Agent Smith you’re here.”

“Agent _Smith_?” Cisco blurts out. Felicity elbows him.

“Tell him that Neo says that there is no spoon,” Hardison instructs, fighting to keep his face straight. “Right away.”

He really shouldn’t, but he can’t resist.

“I thought you said your name was Agent Jay?” the guy, now hopelessly bewildered, asks cautiously.

“It is,” Hardison says ominously. “Just tell him. He’ll understand. Now, get!”

The guy practically runs down the hallway.

“That was _so cool_ ,” Cisco says. “I can’t believe they’re actually buying this.”

“People will buy anything if you look authoritative enough when you say it,” Hardison says with a grin. 

“ _Uh-huh, here come the Men in Black_ ,” Felicity sings. “This is the best day of my _life_. And I’ve gotten fake-married recently!”

“You’ll have to tell me all about that,” Hardison says. “But for now, let’s get moving before that guy starts wondering how a black man ended up in an important super secret government position in 1951.”

“Oops, right,” Felicity says, and they run down the hall, dropping their cardboard boxes which were basically just being used to carry the giant futuristic guns they’d originally been planning on using.

The original guy from the door bursts out of a small office, a creepy-looking guy with glasses following him, and Hardison kicks the door open to where they’re keeping their friends.

But not the alien, which they seem to have removed already. 

Damnit, Hardison’s never going to get to see an alien.

“Oh yeah,” Felicity says in satisfaction. “Y’all call for tech support?”

“Hell yes, good line!” Hardison says, high fiving her.

“Great,” Mick says. “Saved by geeks.”

“Waverider's ready to take us back to 2016,” Cisco says.

There’s a horrible shrieking sound.

“If we leave him here, they’re gonna kill him.”

“So what?” Mick says, sounding indifferent. “He’s an alien.”

“Just ‘cause they’re douches doesn’t mean we have to be,” Cisco says.

“Well…” Felicity says.

“We’ve got to send him home,” Cisco declares.

“I feel like that’s a really bad idea,” Hardison says, but Cisco’s got that determined look in his eyes. Hardison knows that look; he’s seen that look on Nate. Nothing, and he means _nothing_ , is going to get in Cisco Ramon’s way right now.

“Guys,” Cisco says solemnly. “It's up to us to show the Dominators we're better than this.”

“Right,” Hardison says, resigning himself to the inevitable. “But right now, maybe we can do it _quickly_?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You get it?” Eliot asks.

Hardison gives him an injured look. “Of course I got it; who do you think I am?”

Eliot gives Hardison a look in response.

“Wow,” Hardison says. “I just walked right into that one.”

“Too much of a softball,” Eliot agrees. 

“So what’d I miss while I was – let me enjoy this – _time traveling_?”

“You missed the evil government agents trying to shoot the heroes,” Parker chirps. “It was great; they totally got their asses kicked.”

“Was it Agent Smith?” Hardison asks. 

“…yeah, actually,” Eliot says suspiciously. “How’d you know?”

“Guy’s clearly made a career of the alien thing; ran in to him in the ‘50s,” Hardison replies, smirking. 

“Well, our version passed along a message from the Dominators,” Parker says. “He wants Barry to turn himself in.”

“That’s stupid,” Hardison says.

“We’ve already said as much,” Eliot says. “Unfortunately, they’re saying if he doesn’t, they’ll drop a bomb designed to eliminate all meta-humans. And about two million non-meta-humans.”

“Cisco did his vibe thing –” Parker starts.

“Wow, that – that really needs a better name, that right there,” Hardison says. “I’m just saying…”

“The science geeks have come up with something that causes the aliens serious pain,” Eliot says. “We’re going to attack one of their drop ships to distract them while Barry and Kara go place the devices all over the world.”

“Got it,” Hardison says. “What am I doing?”

“Felicity says to tell you that she refuses to concede anything, but that she’d appreciate a second pair of typing hands,” Parker tells him.

“I can do that,” Hardison says. “Uh – what’s the plan for the bomb?”

“Firestorm’s going to transmute it,” Eliot says, crossing his arms in front of him and scowling. “I can’t believe that’s the plan.”

“I thought our records showed that he – uh, they – have only been able to transmute smaller objects,” Hardison says.

“That’s what’s wrong with the plan,” Eliot says.

“Hey, it’s what we’ve got right now,” Parker says, and leans in to kiss them both.

The final battle lasts less than an hour, all told.

“Is that it?” Hardison asks Felicity blankly.

“Uh, yeah,” she says, looking equally taken aback. “That was – did they just all _leave_?”

“They all just left,” Hardison confirms. “Zapped up into their spaceship and flew away the second after their big ass bomb got turned into water.”

“That was pretty cool.”

“…yeah, that was pretty cool. Is this what your life is like?”

“No,” Felicity says with a sigh. “I get the sharp pointy arrows, katanas and gritty detective work. Maybe I should come to Central more often…”

“Pssh, your team would fall apart in a second without you,” Hardison teases.

“They totally would,” Felicity says, grinning. 

Her phone beeps.

She picks it up, then stares.

“What now?” Hardison says.

“Um,” Felicity says.

“What now? More aliens? Metas? Time travel? Cthulhu rising from Ry’leh in the depths of the sea to start eating our brains?”

“Sheesh, calm down,” Felicity says. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Girl, after the day I’ve had…”

“Yeah, good point,” she says. “No, uh – the President wants to, like, give us a medal or something.”

“You’re joking,” Hardison says.

Felicity holds out her phone mutely. Hardison takes it and looks at it.

“You’re not joking.”

“Nope.”

Hardison runs a few tests, but –

“…that’s actually coming from the White House,” he says, and closes his eyes. “We’re getting a medal. From the White House. For helping save the world from aliens. _Best. Job. Ever._ ”

“Does Parker want a medal?” Felicity asks, grinning.

“Does Parker want a medal? Are you kidding? I assume it’ll be made of something shiny. _Of course_ Parker wants a medal. That isn’t the problem.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I haven’t made a facial recognition disrupting mask that matches her outfit yet!”

“Oooooh,” Felicity says, nodding in understanding. “I’ve got a 3D printer you can use, if you want?”

“Felicity, you _lifesaver_ ,” Hardison says.

“You do that,” Felicity says, starting to grin. “I’ll start ordering the party favors. I was thinking enough food to feed an army and enough drinks to drown one, what do you think?”

“I think I’m pulling up a list of the best catering places in Central City right now, that’s what I think.”

“You are staying for the party, though, right?” Felicity asks.

“Probably not,” Hardison replies. “There’s a bit of work I have to do first.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Excuse me,” Hardison says to the guy Parker described as the ‘creepy Secret Agent Man’ who attacked the humans and conveyed the Dominator’s ultimatum while Hardison was busy fucking up his younger self’s plans. “Agent Smith?”

The old man scowls at him. “Who are you?”

Hardison flashes his badge. “Special Agent Thomas, FBI,” he says smoothly. “I work with Special Agent Hagen – you may have met my previous colleagues, Agents Taggert and McSweeten –”

“Those morons,” Smith grumbles. “No idea how they’ve gotten to be so successful. Fine, what do you want?”

“I’ll be accompanying you when you go in to talk with these alleged ‘superheroes’,” Hardison says. “In a purely observatory role, of course; this is still entirely your show. I’m just along for the ride.”

Smith eyes him warily. “No interference?” he demands.

“My visit will be entirely off the record,” Hardison promises him. “No one will ever know I was here, and my agency will deny it if asked.”

Mostly because they won’t know about it, but why bother Smith with the details?

Smith thinks about it for a second, then snorts. “Fine,” he says. “If the FBI wants to get its eyes on this, I don’t care, but whatever. As long as you remember that this is _my_ jurisdiction.”

“All yours,” Hardison says.

“Get in the damn car.”

Hardison gets in the car.

Smith doesn’t use any finesse when he confronts the heroes, which Hardison was counting on. Hardison’s the first to say that he is very good at looking suitably governmental and mysterious while in a suit, but having a _real_ evil government agent alongside him really sells the whole thing.

He waits until Smith is otherwise occupied and drifts over to where Sara Lance and Ray Palmer are standing, then – attempting to be subtle in the least subtle way possible – he says into his sleeve, “Target identified. It’s definitely the right one.”

He waits a second, makes sure that they’re both listening to him while pretending that they’re not.

“Yes, sir,” he says. “Foxtrot India Romeo Echo, sir. Yes. We’ll be ready to move shortly.”

Both of their backs go straight, though they’re still trying to pretend that they’re not eavesdropping on him.

_Excellent_.

Nate and Kara manage to kick Smith out of the party pretty quickly – good on them – and Hardison lingers meaningfully by the door after Smith has left, knowing that he’s still got Nate’s attention.

“We’ll be moving shortly,” he informs his sleeve, which does not have a communication device but looks really good and suspicious. “Everything is in place. He won’t know what hit him; we’ll be in and out before they can stop us.”

Nate’s eyes narrow.

Hardison gives his best slimy government agent smirk and slips out the door.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey,” Eliot says to Mick in an undertone. “Any chance we can convince you to come with us now?”

“Team prefers me not to be left ‘unattended’ for too long,” Mick says, sounding tired. “Besides, we’re heading back into the timestream right after this.”

“Your team never heard of vacations?” Eliot asks.

“I think this _was_ a vacation,” Mick replies, shrugging.

“Well, we’ve got an idea that’ll get the team off your back,” Eliot says. 

Mick can’t help but smile faintly. “One of your team’s ideas?” he asks, amused. “I’m almost scared.”

Eliot grins at him. “You’d better be. Could you go outside and meet Hardison? He’s going to kidnap you.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Entirely,” Eliot assures him.

Eliot has half a dozen arguments up his sleeve – ranging from barbeque to mental health crisis to we want you with us and they treat you like shit – but they’re all unnecessary. Mick just shrugs, and goes. 

Eliot falls back to where Parker is.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah,” she says. “Kara, Cisco and Felicity have agreed to make sure no one but the Legends team follows you. Now go.”

Eliot goes out the side door and pulls on a ski mask to hide his face, then drives the black van over to where Hardison is waiting. “I’m in position,” he says through the comms, enjoying the mild déjà vu involved. No wedding this time, though.

_Hey, guys_ , Parker says chirpily, having clearly walked over to where the Legends were gathered in a small knot towards the back door. _What’re you talking about?_

_We think the government’s up to something_ , Sara tells her. _We’re having a team conference – though you’re welcome to join us._

_Definitely_ , Parker says. _What do you think they’re up to?_

_One of the agents said they were targeting someone, and used some sort of army code_ , Ray says. _We don’t know who, though._

_Well, everyone here’s still accounted for_ , Parker says. _Ray, you’re here, Sara’s here, Nate’s here, Amaya’s here, Jax and Stein are here; that’s everyone in your group, right?_

_No, we have Mick, too_ , Jax says.

_Where is Mick, anyway?_ Sara says, sounding annoyed. _I told him to stay nearby._

_I thought I saw him go out the door, said something about getting some fresh air_ , Parker says. 

_Goddamnit, he always does this_ , Sara says. 

_He probably wants to burn something_ , Amaya observes.

_Which way did he go?_ Ray asks.

_This way_ , Parker says. _Follow me._

Eliot drives the car up to where Hardison is waiting. Mick is standing by him, looking bored. 

_There he is_ , Parker says. 

On that signal, Eliot swings the van around, pressing the button to open the back doors. Hardison moves in for the kill, pushing a surprised Mick back and down and pretending to jab something into his arm. Eliot eels back over the seat and helps Hardison pull Mick – who’s doing an excellent job playing limp and unconscious, though he may also just have actually gone to sleep standing up – into the van before going back to the front seat and driving away like a bat out of hell.

“Kidnapping accomplished!” Hardison cheers.

“Do I want to know why you felt the need to kidnap me?” Mick asks, cracking an eye open and looking amused. “You know my team’s just going to come after me.”

“Actually,” Eliot says, “we’re counting on it.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“They went this way,” Amaya says, leading the way. Her eyes shine in the night like the wolf spirit she’s summoning. Mick’s trail is clear.

“This is a super creepy warehouse,” Ray says.

“Thanks for that helpful insight, Ray,” Sara says, rolling her eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he protests. “How many super creepy old warehouses can a city possibly have? How did they find one? What did this place even use to be?”

“Looks like an old Best Buy warehouse, honestly,” Firestorm says, poking at the walls. 

“Can we maybe stop gawking like tourists and focus on rescuing Mick?” Sara says.

“I still can’t believe he managed to get kidnapped while we were at a party getting thanked by the _president_ ,” Nate says. “Seriously. Who even does that?”

“A criminal with enough open warrants to get the attention of the federal government, that’s who,” Firestorm replies, shrugging. “We should’ve gotten him to wear a mask or something. That’s gotta be some bad PR for the new Pres once someone googles him.”

“…maybe they won’t google him?” Ray says, not sounding very hopeful.

“I’m pretty sure he scratched his balls at some point during that speech,” Sara says tartly. “There’s no way someone’s not googling him right now. But he’s part of our team, and that means we’re going to rescue him, even if we’d all rather be eating hors d’oeuvres and drinking champagne with the others.”

“Why couldn’t they help out again?” Nate asks. “Just saying, but Supergirl’s x-ray vision would be really helpful right now.”

“They had their own crises to deal with,” Sara replies, though she’s clearly a little annoyed as well. 

“Besides, we don’t need Supergirl,” Ray adds. “I’ve got some infrared scanners – there’s someone in the room down the hall, sitting down.”

“Everyone be quiet,” Sara orders. “Amaya, you have the lead. Guys – we go in, we surround him, we keep an eye out for bad guys, and we get him out. Nice, quick, clean and easy. Got it?”

Everyone nods. 

“And – _go_!”

They burst into the room.

There’s a crash-test dummy wearing a bad pastiche of Mick’s clothing and covered in heat packs sitting in the middle of the room, which is lined on all sides with television screens.

“What the hell,” Sara says flatly.

The door behind them slams shut.

“What the _hell_!” Firestorm shouts.

All the televisions click on simultaneously.

“It’s a trap,” Amaya says.

“No; you _think_?” Nate snaps.

“Hello, Legends of Tomorrow!” Hardison says cheerfully from all of those television screens. “Please don’t try to go out through the doors; we’ve ensured that they’re locked and that the several ton steel fire protection doors that whoever owned this place last installed have closed behind them. No, we don’t know who installed those, and to be perfectly honest, we’re a bit freaked out about it, but right now, we’re not going to question it since it’s helpful.”

“Who are you, and what do you want?” Sara demands.

“Nothing much! Just watch this video and you can go.”

“Video?” Nate asks, frowning. “What video?”

The television screens flicker and suddenly the room is filled with terrible elevator music. 

Giant letters fill the screens.

“Huh?” Firestorm says. “‘A Friendly Neighborhood PSA on Workplace Abuse’?”

“That’s right!” the video announces in a grand voice. “This is _your_ turn to learn about the dangers of workplace abuse, an underappreciated form of bullying that continues well into adulthood. Workplace abuse involves repeated, health-harming mistreatment of one or more persons – the ‘targets’ – by one or more perpetrators, and involves conduct that is threatening or humiliating, sabotage, or verbal abuse.”

“We got lured into a trap to watch a PSA on workplace abuse?” Ray says blankly. “Really?”

“Examples of workplace abuse involve berating the relevant individual regardless of the quality of their work –”

The video flickers, and suddenly they’re watching Mick say, “ _At least I didn’t screw up this time,” and Rip turning to yell at him, then Sara snapping at him, then back to Rip saying to Jax, “I could always have Mr. Rory be the ship’s mechanic,” and Jax laughing in negation, saying, “You see, that’s not funny._ ”

“I, uh,” Jax says. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“– sabotaging the individual by giving them insufficient information –”

The scene changes to the old west. “ _He owns the whorehouse,” Jonah Hex says. “The answer’s no, Mick,” Sara says before Mick even blinks, his face twitching with insult. “Why don’t you mosey on in there? Have yourself a good time?_ ” The scene fast forwards, then Amaya is saying that “ _You just set a match to a powder keg,” and Sara saying, “Amaya, your job is to make sure Rory keeps his pistol in his pants until he’s outside the saloon.” Amaya sneers and replies, “Clearly, I drew the short straw._ ”

“I didn’t –” Amaya says.

“That’s totally out of context!” Sara protests.

“– engaging in verbal abuse in front of others in order to create a sense of exclusion –”

_Sara rolls her eyes, “Ignore him,” she tells Kara as Mick’s face falls. “I didn’t know he had a mind enough to be controlled,” Jax laughs to Felicity. “Someone needs to go and tell Mick,” Sara announces, and the entire room turns away, saying, “Not I,” as Amaya groans._

“– not to mention repeatedly insulting the individual –”

_"Even if Mr. Rory wasn't in a zombified state, I doubt he possesses the intelligence to operate a light switch,” Stein says to Ray._ The scene flickers. _Ray says, “Mick told me I need to be more like me, and he’s right, which is rare.”_ The scene flickers again, to something grainier, clearly ripped from a substandard camera and downloaded multiple times. _Rip snarls at Mick, “A serial arsonist was never part of my plan to stop Savage, much less one with the IQ of meat.”_

“Shit,” Jax says. 

“I…” Ray starts, then closes his mouth.

“- or dehumanizing him.”

_“I’m going to finish what I started,” Amaya snaps. “Killing Mick?” Sara asks. “Not that I haven’t thought of it myself, but why?” A moment later. “Look, if I let you out of here, you promise not to hurt Mick unless he really deserves it?”_ The scene changes. _“The animal who wants to watch the world burn... that is who you are,” Amaya says, smiling at Mick. “Don't deny the animal. But don't let it control you either. I can help you. Believe me, I know a thing or two about controlling wild beasts.”_

“Fuck, okay, maybe that wasn’t exactly delicate,” Sara says.

“You actually said that?” Jax says to Amaya, sounding scandalized. 

“What’s wrong with it?” she says defensively.

“Uh, _decades_ of really awful associations of mentally ill people to animals,” Jax says. “You – you don’t say that, man.”

“It was meant kindly,” Amaya protests. “He just needs to learn control.”

“He’s _mentally ill_ ,” Jax says. “You can’t just _control_ that.”

“And why not?” Amaya says, frowning. “It’s just a matter of character –”

“Uh, no,” Ray says. “That’s…totally not how mental illness works. At all. Outside of the pathologization of mental illness 1940s Britain and America where you grew up, I guess.”

“But wait!” the video announces. “Guess what? There’s _more_!”

_“We don’t really like him ourselves,” Sara says._

_“I thought it would help me get into character,” Ray says, wearing a dead man’s jacket._

_“It’s bringing up –” “Feelings?” Ray asks Mick. Mick nods. “So just stop and be you,” he advises. “Well, that’s a little difficult, considering I lost my suit, my company, my powers. Is this what an existential crisis feels like?” Mick’s face falls and he turns away._

The video continues inexorably onwards.

\----------------------------------------------------

"I think we got the point," Sara snaps after a while.

"I'm not sure you did," Hardison drawls into his microphone. "Being as the point is that y'all been behaving like a bunch of bullies while calling yourself heroes - oh, no, wait, you prefer Legends, right? Is that, like, all the self-righteous dickery of heroes but none of that pesky compassion?"

"Mick's an adult man," Sara argues stubbornly. "It's not like he couldn't have said something -"

"Ms. Lance," Stein snaps. He and Jax had separated, without anyone noticing. "Far be it from me to deny my part in the malicious atmosphere that we have unwittingly helped create, I doubt I need to remind you of all people that Mr. Rory has recently lost someone very dear to him, and is in no state to be fighting against those which he rightly considers to be at least allies, if not friends."

"I lost my sister and I didn't -"

"No, you just tried to go on a murder spree that could cause any number of aberrations," Ray says. He's staring down at the ground. "Drop it, Sara. Everyone grieves differently. And I think he - whoever 'he' is - is right. Our behavior has been despicable." He swallows. "Especially mine."

"Glad you recognized it," Hardison says. "So I'm guessing you understand why we're not giving Mick _back_ to you just yet."

"You can't just take him," Amaya exclaims.

"You bet your ass we can," Parker chimes in. "You've lost Mick Rory privileges for at least a few months. Come back then - assuming you're still alive - and maybe if you ask really nicely, he'll agree to go back with you."

"Wait, Parker?" Sara says, frowning. "Is that you?"

Eliot pushes the door open. "Yeah," he says, glaring. "Now get the hell out of here before I make my real feelings on the subject known."

"We can't go," Ray protests.

Eliot's eyes narrow.

"Without asking Mick if he's okay with it, I mean," Ray adds hastily. 

"Ray's right," Sara says abruptly. "I - okay. I'll admit we've been behaving in what you might not call -" Then she stops. "No, you're right. We've been total assholes, and that's on us. But Mick's still one of us, and we're willing to fight for him, unless he doesn't want to come with us anymore."

Eliot studies her for a long moment. 

"Let them go," Parker orders through the intercom. 

"Fine," Eliot says grudgingly, and steps aside.

They follow him down the hallway to where Mick is sitting at the bar of what appears to be a small, illicit dance club, arguing with the bartender about what constitutes a 'proper' drink.

"Hey, Mick," Sara says.

Mick glances at them and his face falls, just a little. "Time to go already?" he asks.

"Not...exactly," Ray says. "I mean, we're leaving, yes, and you can definitely come with us if you like, but, uh, if you don't want to, you don't have to."

"You're ditching me?" Mick asks, not looking particularly surprised.

"Not at all," Sara says, and digs something out of her pocket. "Felicity sent the Waverider a message to tell us about the aliens. I borrowed the tech she used, in case we ever wanted someone to reach us, and - I want you to have it. If you ever want back in, we'll come get you, no questions asked. But if you want a vacation with your friends, you can have one." 

"They _are_ your friends, right?" Ray asks.

"Yeah," Mick says. "They are." He hesitates, then reaches out and takes the small device. "Any time I want?"

"And we'll be back in two months to check in on you anyway, if you decide to stay," Sara promises. "You're still a Legend, Mick." She pauses for half a second, then says, "We called ourselves a family, even if a dysfunctional one, but we haven't been acting like one. I'm sorry for being an asshole."

"Same," Jax says. "Sorry, man."

"I concur with Mr. Jefferson and Ms. Lance," Stein says. "I have behaved in a way I would never have condoned in one of my students, and that is inexcusable. I hope you forgive me." 

"Yeah, sorry," Nate chimes in.

Amaya nods slowly. "I apologize for my role in treating you poorly," she says. "It wasn't my intent."

Mick shrugs. "You tried once in a while," he tells her. 

"Yeah, she did, but I should've been the one trying," Ray says. "Mick, I - I'm sorry. I asked you to be my partner, and when you finally gave me a chance, I totally blew it. Like, big time. I'm sorry."

Mick shrugs again, not looking at him. "Shouldn't have tried to make you into Snart."

"You didn't, though," Ray says. "You made me into a better version of me, and I took that and I went on with my life like you had nothing to do with it. That was wrong. You're a great partner, Mick. I see why Snart picked you above everyone else. I'm sorry I wasted my chance."

"Right, right," Mick grumbles. "Can we stop talking feelings now? Thought you guys said you were leaving."

"You know you _can_ come with us now, if you like," Sara says. "I was serious about that."

"I know you were, and I appreciate it," Mick says gruffly. "But I'm not fit for the field right now. I'll see you in a few months."

Sara abruptly reaches out and hugs him, releasing him before he has a chance to object. "See you around," she says, and smiles shakily before turning on her heel and leading the others out.

"You okay?" Eliot asks, coming beside Mick. Parker and Hardison trail into the room, grinning broadly, and come up beside them.

"Can't believe they let me go," Mick says. "Can't believe they _apologized_ for all that crap. What the hell did you guys _do_ to them?"

"Oh, not much. We provided them with… _leverage_ ," Parker quips.

"That doesn't even make _sense_."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mick’s still basking in his epic victory in the Barbeque-Off of Ultimate Destiny – title, intro graphics, and online advertising campaign courtesy of Hardison – a week after the Waverider left him behind, even if he did have to concede that Eliot’s cornbread and sides were clearly a cut above his own. It doesn’t matter; he won the meat portion during the blind taste test, and he is going to hold that victory over Eliot _forever_.

He waves at Eliot through the window to the kitchens when he reaches across the bar to pour himself another glass of beer. He’s cut back on his drinking, but he still likes a few glasses in the evening, especially after a hard couple of hours working with his shrink. 

The door to the pub slams open, despite it being after hours.

Mick turns to look, wondering who could be stupid enough.

"I cannot _believe_ you convinced me to do that," a woman with a British accent snaps at the man in the fedora walking in behind her. "Retired, he says! Retired! Oh, yes, definitely retired, I can _see_ how retired you are -"

"C'mon, Sophie," the man complains. "I’m not coming out of retirement – it was really more of in the nature of a one-time favor for our friends -"

"Oh, yes, certainly, and the challenge had nothing to do with it, did it?" she says haughtily, though it's evident from her expression that she's not that upset.

The man see-saws his hand. "Oh, well, you know..."

"Nate! Sophie!" Parker calls from behind the bar, waving.

"Hey, Parker," the man - Nate - says. "I got your message."

"Did you get it?" Parker asks eagerly.

"Get what?" Eliot asks suspiciously, poking his head out of the kitchen. Hardison also looks out that door, frowning a little.

Nate turns to the door and gestures.

A tall man saunters in behind him. 

Mick drops his glass, which shatters on the floor. 

"Len," he breathes. "Leonard."

"Hey, Mick," Len says, sounding casual if you didn't know him. His right eye glows a little bluer than the other - it must have been the side that was facing the Oculus when -

" _How?!_ " Mick asks.

"You _really_ don't want to know," Sophie says, rolling her eyes as she settles in at the bar and grabs a bowl of olives for herself. 

"Told you I'd fix it," Parker tells a gaping Hardison and Eliot.

"You can bring back the _dead_ now?" Hardison asks Nate, sounding scandalized. 

"In fairness, he was only _mostly_ dead," Nate says.

"I'm not a witch, I'm your wife," Sophie mutters.

"I'm feeling much better now," Len puts in. "I think I'll go for a walk now. I feel happy, I feel happy -"

"That's not even from the same movie," Mick says, getting up. "You asshole."

"I'm sorry for punching you out again," Len says contritely. 

"And for _dying_?" Mick challenges.

"It was me or you," Len says, crossing his arms. "That I ain’t sorry for."

Mick grabs him, ignoring the instinctive flinch, and pulls him into his arms.

"Wait," Len says, voice muffled into Mick's shoulder. "Are we hugging? This a thing we do now?"

But the way his arms come up to encircle Mick in return, pulling Mick in just as tightly, gives the lie to his words.

"I'm scared of you," Hardison tells Nate.

"You weren't before?" Eliot says doubtfully.

"Do you _know_ what those stupid Time Masters make their women wear?" Sophie asks Parker indignantly. 

"Your friends are weird," Len whispers in Mick's ear. "Also, did you really make dinosaur barbeque without me?"

"Just wait till I tell you about the ninjas," Mick replies, his voice still thick with emotion.

"Now that's _really_ unfair!" Len protests. "Clearly, I'll just have to stay alive next time just to keep an eye on you, keep you from having all the fun without me."

"Yeah," Mick says. "Guess you'll have to."


End file.
